3 Secrets
by FunkyFish1991
Summary: ..Third in a series.. Still recovering from the traumatic incident on the bridge, with a new theft case, Sam is meeting new people, making new friends...and new enemies...AU DxS
1. Unit 189

**A/N - w00t! third in the series. i don't own DP, but i _do _own all OC's in this.**

**okay, i'm a little unsure about this one. i decided i didn't like the old team. well, i've been planning on this for a while, but i didn't think i'd do it so soon. sorry if anyone doesn't like!!! (btw, this babbling A/N will make more sense after you've actually READ the fic O.o)**

**okay, just so you know - i dont watch CSI or _anything _like that, and my knowledge of crimes and the FBI is INCREDIBLY limited (i make up most of it and hope it makes sense). if you notice a mistake (or something that is just complete nonsense) please tell me so i can fix it, cause there is no way i would know, otherwise :p**

**anyway...on with 'Secrets'...**

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**_One_: Unit 189**

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"Good morning," Sam said, walking over to her desk and slinging her bag onto her chair. She checked her phone for messages, and then sat on her bag. She squawked, leaping up, then chuckled as she set her bag on the ground. She was just about to sit down again when Jake approached her, looking solemn.

"Sam," she glanced up at him. "You have to go upstairs. They want to see you."

"Oh," Sam said, surprised. She rose, and started walking, before stopping and turning back to Jake. "Do you know why?"

He just shrugged, and she turned once more to the door. She walked to the elevator, pressing the button for the twentieth floor, knowing that that was what Jake had meant when he said 'upstairs'. Was she in trouble?

Already?

The elevator doors opened fourteen floors later and Sarah Herman stood before her, a file clasped under her arm.

"Samantha," she greeted, holding out her hand. Sam shook it as she exited the elevator.

"Ms Herman," Sam replied, a little nervous. The two women turned and Sam followed the older woman along a series of corridors. They eventually stopped outside a large brown door. Sam turned to the woman who had got her the job at the FBI in the first place.

"Um, why am I here?"

"You'll find out in a moment."

_Oh, thank you. How helpful. _

Sarah pushed open the door. The room had one long table in the center, around which sat twelve men and women at regular intervals. There were two empty seats – one two from the end on the right, and one at the end. Sarah motioned Sam to that chair, and Sam walked over and sat in it as Sarah seated herself in the other empty seat.

A balding man with a grey moustache spoke first. "Samantha Manson." Sam could not tell whether it was a question or a statement, so she just nodded vaguely.

"Are you recovering well?" A woman asked. She had blonde hair, but with serious brown roots.

Sam unconsciously touched her throat with the tips of her fingers. It had been three days since the incident on the bridge, and all that was left were some unattractive yellow bruises.

But Sam could still sometimes feel the huge hand of Dalton Fisk crushing down on her neck.

"Yes," she replied after a few seconds of delay.

"Good, good," the woman said, turning back to a file in front of her. Sam looked around and noticed that they all had these identical files. She peered at the file before the man next to her, and saw with a small start that it was a file on her.

_What's going on?_

"Sorry, but, could you tell me why I'm here?"

They all looked at her questioning face.

"We're promoting you," a man with ginger, gelled hair informed her.

Her eyes widened. _Already? _

"Oh."

"Now we are aware that you have only been here, what is it, two weeks? But we are quite impressed with your talents. We know that in the two cases your unit has solved so far, you have been the mastermind."

"We believe you are worthy of a better unit."

"Would you like to move?"

Sam's head snapped from person to person as they spoke all over the table. Promoted? So soon? She was proud of herself, but still very reluctant.

"I would have to leave my current unit?"

"For a better one."

She pursed her lips. She was getting rather fond of her unit. Well, was she? Jake annoyed her, Mick was a little passive. No. They were all passive, really. And she liked Jennie but…argh the woman was so – _perky_! And she _was_ getting a little tired of always having to take charge. Some initiative would be nice.

A new unit. A better unit.

"Well," one man said, looking bored at her indecision. "You have no choice. We are promoting you to Unit 189, and that's it." He snapped shut his file and stood, followed by the rest of the people in the room. "Good luck Miss Manson."

Sam stood, slowly, and nodded her thanks towards the man.

As she walked out into the hallway, she was in a semi-daze. She didn't wake up until she smacked right into the elevator doors. She pushed the button, muttering crossly against the lift. This was really weird. She couldn't believe she was being promoted, so soon.

She reentered Unit 615's office, a little shaken up, but gradually getting more and more excited for the new start. She packed up her desk under the watchful eyes of Mick and Keith. They had told her that they had been informed of her promotion while she had been gone.

She finished gathering all her things (it didn't take very long), and then turned to face the two men. Mick enveloped her in a hug, and as soon as he stepped back, Keith did the same.

"Good luck, Sam," Mick said, grinning sadly.

She smiled at him. "Thanks Mick. Bye Keith."

She waved goodbye to Jake and Alex, who were sitting at their cubicles, looking stony. Alex gave her the barest wave back, but Jake ignored her completely. She turned up her nose at the insufferable man and turned to open the door, for the last time.

But suddenly the door was flung open before her, very nearly taking off her nose, and a distraught-looking Jennie clasped Sam in a fierce bear hug.

"Oh Sam!" She cried. "What am I going to do without you?"

Sam smiled, peeling the woman off of her after a few moments of the hug. "Bye Jennie." Jennie smiled tearfully.

"Bye-bye Sam," Jennie said.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to know you guys better."

"Hey, not your fault, right?" Jennie attempted a brave face. "You deserve it, Sam. Good luck. We'll miss you, so much."

A snort came from Jake's direction. Jennie did not even turn to see him as she spoke again.

"Especially Jake."

* * *

Sam stood outside her new office, looking at the silver letters and numbers on the door. _Unit 189_. My new team. 

She breathed in deeply, and pushed open the door. Four heads bobbed up from inside their cubicles. Two women and two men. One of the women stood and hopped over to Sam.

"Hi!" she greeted boisterously. "You must be Samantha! It's nice to finally meet you – welcome to our unit! Well, I suppose I should say, 'your unit'!"

Sam was a little taken aback at the woman's energy, especially considering the less than enthusiastic greeting she had received last time.

"Uh, hi, yeah I'm Sam Manson. Nice to meet you."

The woman shook her head eagerly, her auburn hair bouncing around almost as excitedly as she was. "I'm Marilyn Turner, your new teammate. Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the team!"

She took Sam by the hand and led her over to the cubicles in the middle of the room. She pointed to a seemingly floating head as she said each of their names, and each one of them stood to shake Sam's hand with a smile, or a even a grin.

"This is Maria Scott," Marilyn introduced a brunette with rimless glasses and an immaculate suit. Sam could tell from her tone that she did not exactly favor the woman. "Tony Matthews," an African-American man wearing a red shirt with the sleeves rolled up. "And Edward Price." The last man was older than the rest of them, with silvering brown hair and a wide grin.

"It's great to meet you all," Sam said, pleased with them already. Her brow furrowed a second later as she realized something. "Are there only five people in this unit?"

"Oh, no!" Marilyn said, giggling with what seemed to Sam to be a little too much enthusiasm for the situation. "There are six of us! Our other guy's down getting coffees."

Sam turned her head slightly. _Wait a minute_. "What's his name?"

"Daniel J. Fenton," she said with a little laugh at his longer name, as if it was a private joke. "But we all just call him–"

The door swung open with an announcement that the drinks were up, and Sam stared in surprise at a familiar face.

"Danny!" She gasped.

All the cups leapt into the air, coffee splashing around, and the man who had just entered yelped and fumbled to regain control over them all. He looked up, and his baby blue eyes widened. "Sam?" he said, looking just as surprised as she did. "What on Earth are you doing here?"

Sam noticed that a little frown had settled on Marilyn's face. The woman swept forward and put her arm across Sam's shoulders. "Sam_antha_ is joining our unit."

Danny's face broke into a grin. "Really? Great!"

"I suppose," Marilyn muttered crossly. Sam laughed, realizing why Marilyn was upset. As Danny moved away to deliver the drinks to their owners, she leaned in to whisper in Marilyn's ear.

"Don't worry, he's all yours – we're just friends."

Marilyn's frown dissolved and a beatific smile appeared in its place. "Oh, okay! That's okay then!" She practically skipped off to retrieve her drink from Danny. Sam smiled at the funny woman, then walked over to what she assumed was her desk.

Twenty minutes later, Sam had been shown all around the office, and shown how to use the most basic programs on her new computer, which she had found, to her dismay, to be a completely different model and entirely different system from the one in her old office. It had thrown her off.

She had also been given some fancy equipment. A UV torch, a taser, a satellite phone that could be attached to your collar like a tiny microphone, and a very sharp, apparently expensive, knife that came with a cover. That one had been a welcoming gift from Edward. But the one she decided would be the most useful was a scanning device. Tony told her that if she put a hair, or fingernail or something like that on it, it could tell her who it belonged to, provided, of course, the person's DNA was in the government files. It could also calculate the contents of samples of dirt and dust and other things like that.

Sounded like something out of Star Wars, but she wasn't complaining.

"So," she said to Danny. The team seemed to have finished prepping her for her new position, she had finished inspecting her new toys, and she felt she could now get started. He turned to face her. She stood and walked to stand beside him, resting her elbow on his shoulder. "What do you guys do down here?"

He chuckled. "Not much interesting – until we get a case."

"How often does that–"

Suddenly the door burst open and an intern popped in, thrusting what Sam recognized as a case file into Tony's hands, then disappearing.

"Hmm. Never mind."

Danny laughed, standing to join Marilyn, Maria and Edward as they gravitated towards Tony, who was opening the file.

"So, what is it this time, Anthony?" Maria asked, putting on her glasses.

Tony scanned the file, his face reading excitement. He looked up at the team. "Theft."

"Of what?" Marilyn asked, sounding excited.

Sam wondered if delirium was a constant state for this woman.

He stood up straight and his next words sounded forcefully grand. "A priceless pink sapphire."

Sam snorted with laughter.

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**so...any thoughts? is it...oh, i dunno. i've been given a steroid inhaler, and i think something's wrong with me...my hands are shaking. whoaaaaaa... :D**

**review s'il vous plait!!!**

**FunkyFish1991**


	2. Sapphire

**A/N - i dont own DP, but i do own whatever you don't recognize. and, for the last chapter, i don't own _Star Wars _either.**

**well, there wasnt as negative a reaction as i thought there might be to the last chapter so yay!!! i DID get some threats to update...sorry - i forgot:s**

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**_Two_: Sapphire**

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"The Rose Sapphire?" Maria asked.

"Yes. How did you know?"

Maria shrugged. "How many other priceless pink sapphires are there?"

Tony grinned. "True."

Sam held out her hand for the file, a smile still twisting her lips. A priceless pink sapphire. It sounded too much like something out of a fairytale. Danny and Edward read over her shoulder as she scanned the pages. She read out key information for the team.

"It was stolen between eight and midnight last night, from the home of Gerald Monk."

Edward looked up. "I've heard of him. He designs machinery for the army. He's been doing so for years now - he's one of the best there is."

"So, why did he have the gem?" Marilyn asked.

"He was keeping it for the night for the museum. It was being transferred from the Smithsonian to the Mirage Museum and Gallery for a one week exhibit that was supposed to begin in three days' time.

"Mr Monk is incredibly wealthy and owns a state of the art safe - the best in the city, according to this. He used it to hold his deceased wife's most expensive jewelry, and often information from his work as an inventor. The sapphire was supposed to have been well protected in the safe."

"Well, how did the thief open it?"

"He blew it up. That was the only thing the safe was unprotected against."

"What?" Danny said, incredulous, throwing his arms into the air. "Who the hell makes a safe that you can just blow open?"

"What model was it?" Edward asked.

"A Jorgensen FH12I60 Mx," Sam read, stupefied by the complicated name. "Why can't they just give it a _normal_ name?" she muttered, so only Danny heard her and laughed quietly.

"Yes," Edwards said, nodding as if he had some idea what she was talking about. "That model is exquisite – filled with technology. If it were made of bomb-proof material, it could not have any of its other functions."

"But still – unprotected against something so simple?" Maria said, removing her glasses and holding them against her shoulder.

"The safe is designed to go with an extensive security system." Edward informed her.

"Which was?" Marilyn asked, looking to Sam, who searched through the file.

"Monk owns the top three floors of the Mirage Tower; he lives on one, one is, like, one huge guest suite, and the whole top floor housed the safe. Okay, aside from security cameras everywhere, the halls were patrolled by four armed guards and one guard dog from six p.m. to midnight. There was a combination door to get through before you were even in the same room as the safe, completely bulletproof glass on all the windows - which were also protected by steel shields that are activated when any alarm is sounded, steel reinforced walls and, to top it all off, moving motion-detecting lasers filling both rooms. Each of the systems required a different code to shut down."

"Wow. Someone was overprotective."

"Not protective enough though, it seems," Maria said, replacing her glasses and holding out her hand for the file. Sam set it gently into her palm and crossed her arms over her chest.

"So how did this person get in?"

"They don't know."

"It seems to me," Danny said, folding his arms. "We're just going to have to visit the crime scene."

Sam rolled her eyes at him.

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They arrived at the Mirage Tower an hour later, staring up at the sixty floor skyscraper. Danny whistled as they stared up at it, reaching for the clouds. 

The team exited the elevator a while later onto the fifty ninth floor – the safe floor. Police tape decorated the whole place, adding the only color to the otherwise stone grey room. It was bright with fluorescent light, shining off its chrome, black marble and steel interior.

"I'm hoping the lasers are _off_," Danny said warily as the team entered the room, eyeing the terminals all over the ceiling. Sam smothered a laugh, but Marilyn was not so discreet.

Her cackles echoed in the cavernous space, catching more than one odd look from the police.

Sam stared at the safe-room. It was large and square, a corridor edging the other, smaller square room in the middle, in which she knew was the safe. The door to the smaller room was on the side facing them, and it was shut. However, there was a large messy rectangle burned out of the middle. It looked as though someone had gone at it with a welding torch.

"You think that's how they got in?" Danny asked.

Again, Marilyn let out a loud laugh, frightening Danny enough for him to jump towards Sam, who patted his arm reassuringly.

"Is she part hyena, do you think?"

She shook her head at him. "Wow, you're clueless."

He cocked his head in confusion. "What?"

"Can't tell you – that'd spoil the fun."

He crossed his arms and stalked over to a policeman. Sam heard him ask the man if they had any idea how the thief had gotten in. The man shook his head, and Danny walked back to Sam.

"How _did _the guy get in? They've found no way he could have."

"So far."

Sam looked at the windows. The metal barrier had slid over them, probably when someone raised the alarm, covering the glass behind. She shook her head. They were almost sixty stories in the air. You'd have to fly to be able to get up.

Her eyes narrowed. Someone who could fly. She turned on Danny.

"You think Phantom had something to do with this?"

Danny started. "Uh, no. What would he want with the Rose Sapphire?"

"What would anyone want with it? You couldn't sell it anywhere without being caught - even the black market wouldn't buy something so easily recognizable. Whoever wants it just wants it so he can say to himself that he stole it. He just wanted the thrill of the victory. And everyone's favorite meddler does seem to like the thrill. Why else would he interfere in dangerous police cases?"

"To help?"

"So join the police!"

Danny fell silent. "I guess he could have done it."

"I guess he could have too." She turned to a policeman walking in their general direction. "I want to see the windows."

"Miss, we're over sixty feet in the air. I doubt anyone's gonna be coming in through the windows."

She gritted her teeth, controlling herself. "_Please_ let me see the windows."

He sighed insufferably at her, and spoke as though he was doing her a great service. "Al_right_."

He walked to a keyboard near the elevator door, punching in an eight digit code as he read it off of a sheet of paper in his hand. The metal sheaths on the windows slid back into the corners clunkily and noisily, flooding the room with natural light.

And exposing a large, circular chunk of glass missing from one of the panels.

"Hell!" the officer shouted, eyes wide. "What's that!?"

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**review please!!! and, again, sorry for the long delay!!!**

**FunkyFish1991**


	3. Monk

**A/N - i dont own DP, but i do own whatever you don't recognize**

**okay, felt kinda guilty about leaving that last chapter so long...and this one doesn't have a cliffie, so - you guys get a dual update. i don't think i've EVER done this before Oo so enjoy!!!**

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**_Three_: Monk**

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Sam walked over to it. The hole was about two feet in diameter, and at about shoulder lever for her. There was a neat, clean slice around the edges.

"But," Edward stuttered as everyone crowded around the discovery. "The glass is bulletproof! You couldn't cut it, or smash it, o-or do anything to it!"

Maria traced her plastic-gloved fingers over the incision. "It looks, a little like a laser cut...it could have been. But..."

Sam stood right in front of the hole, then turned away from it, looking at the opposite wall. She thought she saw something, and moved forwards slowly towards it. She stood about a foot from the wall facing the hole, and lifted her hand. Her fingers traced a two foot circular groove in the wall, about shoulder height. The metal of the wall was slightly melted.

"He _did_ use a laser." She confirmed. "A high power laser, and it cut through the glass, but left a mark on this wall." She walked to stand beside Danny as everyone rushed over to inspect her finding.

"Nice work detective." Danny said, punching her shoulder lightly.

"Thanks." She replied, pursing her lips. She turned from him and walked over to the hole. She promptly stuck her head out, looking towards the sky.

"Uh, Sam, what are you doing?" Danny asked, leaping towards her in case she took a dive.

"Hm." She murmured. She pulled her head back inside, to Danny's relief, and grabbed his arm, heading towards the elevator.

"Where are we going?" He asked as the elevator doors opened for them, and he was pushed inside.

"The roof."

They were let out of the elevator into a stairwell, and they climbed up to the door labeled 'Roof'. When they were up there, Danny peered over the edge of the building and darted back instantly.

"Whoa, long fall, long fall," he drew out the vowel in the second 'long' as he skittered back to her side. Sam smiled at him, and walked over to the side of the building the hole in the window was on. She leaned out over the edge, to confirm she was on the right side, then looked beside her.

A generator of some sort was on her right, with handles on it to open various hatches. She grabbed the large handle on the top and pulled it. She threw all of her weight away from it, but it did not budge.

"Clever," Danny said, understanding what she had found. "They tied a rope or grappling hook or something to that, then rappelled down the side of the building. Someone has some balls."

She chuckled, releasing her hold on the handle. "Someone does." She frowned. "I guess it wasn't the meddler then. Someone who can fly wouldn't need to do this."

"How do you know someone actually did? There's nothing here to prove it."

"The generator is directly above the hole. It's too perfect. I can't let my dislike of the man affect my judgment."

"The guy's saved your life twice and you still don't like him?"

"I guess I owe him, but," she trailed off and walked back to the elevator. She turned and looked Danny in the eye. "He's still a meddler."

Danny chuckled and followed her into the elevator. They met the rest of the team on the way down. The team hailed two cabs and made their way back to the office, where they sat forty minutes later.

"Suspects?"

"Tons. Who wouldn't want a priceless jewel?"

"Yeah, but who would have a high power laser? And a welding torch? And a rappelling harness? And more importantly, know how to use them all?"

"And how would they know all the codes to all the security systems? The only person who does is Mr Monk."

Marilyn's head shot up. "Could he have done it?"

"Unlikely. He was at the party until after the jewel was stolen, and there are plenty of witnesses to that."

"Still, we shouldn't count him out," Edward warned.

"Well, guys," Tony said. "I think we need more information before we do anything. Forensics found nothing of the thief in the room, so we don't have anything there."

"And our only witness is Mr Monk." Maria said.

"I'll see if I can get an appointment with him," Marilyn said, rising and walking over to her desk.

The rest of the team dissipated, leaving two black heads – one braided and one severely mussed – sitting opposite each other, staring at the case files.

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The team had nominated Sam and Danny to go interview Mr Monk, as they were the ones who had figured out the thief's method of entry – the most substantial piece of information the team had at the time. 

After they knocked on the door on the fifty seventh floor and were escorted in by a maid, they ended up sitting on a very low couch in a monstrous living room. The couch was only a few inches off the ground, and Sam crossed her legs to be comfortable, while Danny just had his feet on the floor, his long legs bent up in front of him.

"God, this thing is uncomfortable," he groused.

She smiled at him. "I guess it's designed for those of us less than six feet tall."

He grumbled some more, shifting himself periodically. Sam looked around the room. It was mainly minimalist, a little art deco. Above the mantel was an aggravatingly loud, ticking clock. The mantel itself was inlaid with enormous fake gems.

It was vulgar. It was boring. Somehow it was both at the same time. She got tired of looking at the simple, plain walls and floor, and looked at the table in front of them. It was the only thing in the whole room that she would not mind having in her own home. It was a dark, almost black mahogany table, and, like the couches on either side of it, it only rose a few inches off the floor. On top of it was a large, round glass platter, which had a pyramid of green apples on top of it. She quite liked it.

"Hello, detectives!" A cheery voice greeted them. Sam snapped her head to the door that someone had just entered, and Danny started in fright and then followed her gaze.

The man was about Sam's height, and obviously freakishly skinny underneath his expensive brand suit. He was bald and beardless, and his beady eyes studied the two figures in his home almost eagerly.

Sam rose and went to shake the man's hand. "Mr Monk. My name is Sam Manson, and this is Daniel Fenton."

Danny put his hands on the sofa to push himself up.

"Please call me Gerry." He took her hand.

Danny grunted as he fell back down awkwardly.

"Alright, Gerry, do you mind if we ask you some questions about the robbery?"

Danny tried again, shifting his legs this time.

"Not at all, my dear, let's get to the bottom of this, shall we?"

Danny was swinging his legs up and down as much as he could to heave himself up, but to no avail.

"Shall we sit?" Gerry said, putting his hand on the small of Sam's back and gesturing towards the twin sofas. She arched her back slightly to break the contact, uncomfortable.

Danny finally turned onto his front, on his hands and knees, and pulled himself up. He grinned triumphantly and turned to shake Gerry's hand.

"Oh, you needn't have gotten up, my boy! Relax, please, drinks anyone?"

Sam shook her head in response to his question, her mouth twisting into a crooked line as she tried to hold back a laugh at Danny's expression. He sighed crossly and flopped back down into the low couch.

Sam sat beside him, as their small witness fell onto the couch opposite them.

"So," he said, clasping his hands together, his elbows on his knees. "What do you kids need to know?"

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**review please!!!**

**FunkyFish1991**


	4. Interview

**A/N - i dont own DP, but i do own whatever you don't recognize**

**aaaand another fast-ish update!!! ;)**

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**_Four_: Interview**

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Sam gritted her teeth at the demeaning name he had given them, but held back a snappy comment. She pulled her recorder from her pocket and flicked it on. "Mr Monk, is it true that you left your house at eight for a party being given by a friend of yours?"

"Yes, or, about ten past eight, really – I'm always late, you see, my girl."

Again, Sam fought against her urge to rebuke him for calling a name that she really outgrew ten years ago. "Alright, and what time did you return from the party?"

"Not too late, about midnight, perhaps a little after. The party was getting a little mundane."

"I see. And when you got home, what did you do?"

"I went to bed."

Danny cocked an eyebrow. "So, how did you discover the jewel was missing?"

Gerry barked. Sam started in surprise, before realizing it had just been some sort of strange laugh.

"I, uh, went up there to check on my designs. The ones I keep in my safe? I'm quite fond of them, you see. I dislike admitting it. It's rather, well, pathetic, don't you think?"

She smiled at the strange man. "'Pathetic' is not the word I would choose, Sir. You care about your work. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Care? I suppose. It's all so boring though. I've been designing computers and weapons for over thirty years now. They find a talent and they really squeeze it to death. I desperately want to quit."

"What would you do if you did quit?" Danny asked, leaning forwards.

The man shrugged. "Take a vacation, probably."

"To the sun?"

The odd man barked with laughter again. "Of course not! I'd go skiing, or bungee jumping. Something I never got to do."

Sam grinned. "Bungee jumping isn't all its cracked up to be. You want to do something interesting? Learn to fly a plane."

"You fly, my dear?"

Sam did not even notice the name this time. "No," she looked out at the sky. "I've always wanted to fly. It was the one thing I never got round to learning as a SEAL."

"You were a SEAL?"

"Yes."

"Now that," he said, his interest evidently piqued. "Takes guts. I find I have a new respect for you, my girl."

"Please don't call me that."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Certainly. What should I call you?"

"Sam."

"Good, then, Sam."

"So, Mr Monk, uh, Gerry," Danny said, remembering why they were there. "What did you do when you realized the sapphire was missing?"

"I ran right downstairs and called the police."

"Were the security systems on?"

"No, all turned off."

Sam touched her finger to her lip. "Where is the panel to turn off all the systems?"

"Well, there's one in the room. And one down here, with me, but it's hidden. That's all."

"Were there any signs of entry when you returned here?"

He paused for a second. "Not that I saw."

"Have your maids been?"

He paused again. "Yes."

Sam frowned. That meant that they could have cleaned up any signs of entry. "Who were they?"

"I don't know. I didn't see them. And they send different ones each week it seems. It gets tedious, I must tell you."

"Of course." Sam was annoyed. "So have you seen anyone recently who's shown an interest in the jewel?"

"Oh yes, many. Who wouldn't?"

"Anyone particularly interested?"

"No, nobody more so than anyone else."

"Did you tell anyone any codes?"

"Well, one of my men knows the code for the laser, and one knows the safe room door's, but only I know them both, plus the one for the safe, of course. They would have had to team up to be able to shut down all the systems. They each installed a different component of my system, you see."

"Well, the safe room door wasn't opened; a hole was welded through it. So it could have just been the man who knows the laser code."

"No. Absolutely not. I trust Higgins implicitly."

"Well, could he have told someone the code?"

"He's sworn to secrecy . . . but I _suppose_ he might have let it slip."

"Are the codes written anywhere?"

He huffed. "Certainly not."

Sam sighed. She stood, Gerry rising before her. They shook hands goodbye. "Bye Mr Monk, please tell me if anything comes up, or if you find or remember anything useful."

"Of course. Thank you, my de–" he smiled. "Sam."

Sam went to open the door, but was stopped by a small cough.

"Uh, Sam?" She turned to see Danny, sitting with his legs splayed out on the sofa like an overgrown teddybear, a sheepish grin on his face. "Can't get up."

She sighed with laughter, walking back and wrenching him up onto his feet.

The pair left the building, and Sam darted across the street, Danny right next to her. She turned and looked up at the hole in the window, just visible from where they were. She folded her arms.

"What is it?" Danny asked.

"How did this person get the codes?"

"Maybe they didn't." Sam looked up at him. "Maybe they got through the lasers and just turned them off there."

"Maybe. We'd be dealing with a buff, brave, thrill-seeking master contortionist and gymnast here, then. Great."

Danny sighed. "Let's report back to the others."

The pair walked down the road to the grand hotel a few hundred feet away, where all the cabs had congregated. Sam was silent, and Danny kept giving her worried looks.

They got a cab a few minutes later, and when they were inside, Sam crossed one leg over the other and peered out the window.

Danny sighed. "What are you planning, Sam?"

"Planning? I'm not planning anything."

"Sam. I _already_ know you too well to believe that. Come on, tell me, what are you thinking of doing that you shouldn't?"

"I can't tell you – if I did, you'd just stop me, and then we wouldn't get anywhere with this case."

He sighed intolerantly at her. "Sam, just promise me whatever it is won't guarantee you a trip to the hospital – or prison."

"It won't."

"Will it _possibly_ end in a trip to the hospital or prison?"

"It shouldn't. Why are you so afraid that I'm going to get in trouble?"

"You take chances. Chances only comic book superheroes can really deal with. Like jumping for that woman? Attacking that lunatic so that the two of you fell off the bridge? I can't help but to worry about you."

"Uh, how did you know I attacked him?"

"It, um, seems like something you'd do. And, you just confirmed it." He pointed accusingly at her.

"Right. Well, that's sweet of you, Danny, but I'll be fine. Besides," she said, turning back to look out of the window. "If I do get in trouble, we have the town hero to save me. Again." Her voice had more than an edge of sarcasm to it, and Danny silenced himself on the touchy subject.

The two sat in silence for a little while, before Sam's voice drifted to his ears.

"What's the deal with that guy anyway?"

"Uh, who?"

"Phantom. I mean, is he even human? Because I would stake my life on the fact that he was flying that day with the bridge."

"I, uh, don't know. I really don't know whether he's human or not."

"And who is he?" She turned to look at him. "He must have a secret identity. I just can't picture him walking along the street or around Wal-Mart in that spandex suit thing of his."

Danny chuckled. "No, neither can I. But that sure would be a sight worth seeing."

Sam smiled at him. "That might make my day." She turned once more to look out the window once more, and sighed to herself.

He confused her. She still thought he was no good, but to see him flying had really shaken her up. The first time he had saved her, in the warehouse - it had been surrealistic. She had had her eyes closed, and it had been harder to register everything that was going on around her. But when he had caught her on the bridge, she had been looking right into his eyes the whole time, aware of everything happening, aware of the fact that he was actually saving her from death. It was closer, more personal.

It was more real.

She regarded him both as a mystery to be solved and as a person to be unraveled.

She could not figure out which would be easier to attempt.

* * *

**review please!!!**

**FunkyFish1991**


	5. Attack

**A/N - i own nothing you recognize**

**slow update XD sorry!!**

* * *

**_Five_: Attack**

* * *

The black clock on the wall ticked softly in the silent apartment. The window glass was thick enough to drown out most of what little sound there was coming from the midnight streets below. 

The second hand moved along excitedly, the minute hand following more sedately and the hour hand barely bothering to move at all. But suddenly all three hands moved over the exact same number at the top of the clock, and a grating beeping noise sounded from inside Sam's pillowcase.

She grunted quietly, but reached into the fabric to silence the alarm clock. She rolled out of bed, shaking her head quickly and plodding over to a chair in the corner of the room, where an all-black outfit was laid out.

She tugged the clothing on quickly, and was pulling her hair into a tight braid as she walked into the living room. She grabbed the UV torch from the table, slotting it into the gadget belt she had salvaged from her SEAL days, along with the taser gun and scanner she had been given.

She slipped out of her house silently and ran down the stairs on her toes. Stealth was one of her better qualities, from all the missions she had been on when a snapping twig or a shifting shadow would have resulted in death.

She walked to Mirage Tower, and arrived about half an hour later. She took the elevator all the way to the top. She came out on the roof, and immediately ducked down into a deep shadow next to the elevator, just in case someone was up there and was alerted to her presence, waiting for her.

After a few minutes, when nothing had happened, she moved over to the generator, still low to the ground, and started searching around it for a clue; a fingerprint, a hair, anything. She pressed a button that Tony had showed her on the scanner, and a blue light belt appeared out of the top which scanned for natural fiber.

She always worked better in the dark, she always had.

But after scanning the whole of the generator's surface she turned up nothing, and had to restrain a growl of annoyance. She scanned the floor similarly, but again, found nothing.

The thief was good. Or a ghost.

She chuckled to herself. According to the papers, ghosts were common in this town. She'd believe that when she saw one.

She stood, letting her guard down, as she knew nobody would find her up there, especially that late. Suddenly a loud alarm went off somewhere below her. She squinted over the edge, but it was too dark for her to see anything, especially since it was lighter down further and it caused a glare in her vision.

She moved her head up again, but stopped, looking out into the skyline. Her eyes trapped on to something on the roof of the building opposite her, a considerably shorter edifice. It looked like a man, dressed all in black. And by the light shining on him from the street below, she could see the telltale white of his hair. He was crouched on the ground, his back to her, leaning up against the small wall around the flat roof. He head was bent down low over his body, his arms resting on his drawn up knees.

Her eyes narrowed. _What's he up to? _

She fought with herself for a moment. She wanted to go talk to him, to see what he was doing there, but another part of her knew that she had to get home, to bed, before someone found her.

She had never liked trying to convince people that a woman dressed all in black and out at night with sophisticated gadgetry was not necessarily a thief.

She decided to just go home in the end. She really did not want to risk being found. She dragged her gaze away from the broad back they had been fixed on and walked back towards the elevator.

Suddenly an arm looped around her waist, and one slipped around her still slightly bruised neck. A man's voice sounded in her ear, so close to her face that she could feel his breath stroking her cheek.

"A little late to be out alone, isn't it, detective?"

Her mouth was open, terrified of being choked again. The arm around her throat just seemed to be there to keep her still for the moment, but she wanted to make very sure it stayed that way.

"Who are you?" she demanded, fighting to inject bravado into her words.

"Guess."

"The thief." It was not a question.

"Yes. Well done. You're a smart one, you are. Now, after I've gone through all the trouble to steal the jewel, I'm hardly going to let you find me, am I? Where'd be the fun in that?"

"So you're going to kill me instead."

"Oh, no, of course not. You came back in the middle of the night to do some investigating, and you had an unfortunate tumble off the building."

"No one's going to buy that."

"Of course they are. After all, they found your scanning device on the edge, where you had been looking for clues, and just got a little too excited. What else could have happened? Plus, who else would be stupid enough to come up onto the roof so late at night?"

Her stomach clenched as she saw the logic in his words.

"Speaking of stupid," she said calmly. "Why on Earth have you returned to the scene of the crime?"

"Following you, of course, my dear."

She could not help it. Her thoughts darted to the dark figure she had seen moments ago. Could it be him?

_No_, her mind said. _No, you know it isn't him_. _You know it_.

"Resorted to stalking, have we?"

"No. Just protecting myself. Survival instincts, you see, Sam."

"Don't call me that."

"But you told me to." He said, like a whining child trying to annoy its parent.

Her brow furrowed. "Wha–"

She was cut off by a sudden tightening of the arm around her neck. She froze, furious with herself for being so afraid. But the memory of Dalton Fisk's hand crushing her throat shifted into her mind and blocked out the other, more rational thoughts.

_Kick him! _Her sense screamed at her. _Stomp on his foot! Elbow him! Get your taser! Do _something

_But what if he chokes me? _The other part of her mind said, terror radiating from it. She closed her eyes as the pressure against her throat gradually increased. She was paralyzed with fear.

She was suddenly aware of being dragged. She knew he was taking her to the edge. She felt the hand around her waist move down, reaching into her belt, taking the scanner from its pocket. She heard it being set on the ledge, like he had said.

"Now, I had expected more of a fight from you, to be honest."

She remained silent. He tightened his grip on her neck, whispering once more into her ear, his face coming too close to hers again.

"But I think I've found your weakness."

He moved his hand off her waist, cackling when she did nothing, acutely aware of the pressure on her neck. She suddenly felt his fingertips tapping the delicate skin of her neck, above where his arm was. She shuddered with fear and revulsion.

Suddenly he moved her onto the ledge, so she was sitting on it. The realization jerked her into action. She kicked her leg up towards his face as her hand moved up to dig her nails into his arm. But before anything reached its target he moved his arms so he was holding her legs together with one hand and her arms together with another. She fought against his grip, but to no avail. She glared into his face. He wore a black mask with translucent eye holes.

"Goodbye, Sam."

* * *

**uh oh, sammy's in trouble. cliffie!!! review please!!!**

**FunkyFish1991**


	6. Flight

**A/N - i own nothing you recognize**

**back to school on tuesday :'(**

**-sigh- oh well. sorry for the long wait...again :s**

* * *

**_Six_: Flight**

* * *

But she never quite heard the end of his sinister farewell. He hadn't quite finished speaking her name when his voice stopped with an unmanly squeak and he flew backwards from her. She gripped the ledge immediately with her hands, her stomach turning over as she had the sensation of falling. She saved herself, looking up, knowing what she would see before she saw it. 

Phantom had grabbed her assailant by the back of his shirt, jerking him off of her and tossing him across the roof an impossible distance. She watched his back as he walked away from her towards the fallen man, realizing the inhuman strength hidden beneath the black suit.

She slipped off the ledge, incredibly annoyed to find that she could not feel her legs, and dropped to the floor. Presently the feeling rushed back into them and she rose. Phantom was holding her attacker up by the collar, about to rip off his mask.

Suddenly the man pulled out her taser. He must have taken it from her earlier without her noticing. She had been distracted. She hadn't quite yelled a warning before she heard a tiny whirring sound and Phantom's body was racked with electricity. He dropped the man, who kept on firing the taser at him. He looked as though he was having an epileptic fit. It frightened Sam, because she knew that the low voltage should not be causing that much damage to him.

She darted over to the attacker, dive tackling him to the concrete. She ripped the taser from his loosened grip, turning off the power. The dark man on the floor kept writhing though, and Sam wanted to go help him, but knew she had to get rid of her attacker first. She tasered him, but he managed to kick at her ankles, sweeping her feet out from under her, and disconnecting the wire from his chest, while also sending the shock into her – enough to make her freeze in pain for a split-second. She leapt away from him as soon as she recovered, bracing herself for a fight.

But instead the man jumped up, albeit painfully, and ran to the elevator. Sam watched him, torn between her need to go get him, and her need to help her savior. It only took her a moment to dart back to the body on the floor.

He had stopped writhing, but lay on the concrete, completely immobile, his head tipped back so that his back was arched uncomfortably under him. His white hair looked as if it was smoking. His arms were lying on the ground, palms up, his fingers curling and twitching periodically. One of his legs had jerked up so his foot was flat on the ground.

"Um," she said, kneeling beside him, not knowing what to do and feeling frustratingly useless. Did he answer to his journalistic nickname? "Phantom?"

He did not move. She would have given him CPR, but something stopped her. The thought that maybe he was not human – that it would not help him.

She reached out to touch his face, but her whole body jerked as electricity shot from his skin into hers. The shock was not too bad, and she recovered quickly, her hand still on his face. His eyes flashed open. She literally had to close hers after looking into them. They were luminous, glowing eerily green. When she reopened her eyes, she noticed that there appeared to be lightning flashing inside his irises, and that the whites of his eyes were shining a brilliant, almost blinding white.

The strange appearance of his eyes scared her. She pulled her hand off his face worriedly. "Phantom?" She grabbed his shoulders and shook him impatiently, yet gently. "Phantom?"

He murmured, and relief flooded her. He closed his eyes, then reopened them, and the eerie glow and the lightning were gone. He sat up, putting his hand to his head.

"Are you alright?"

"Are you alright?"

They both smiled. Sam spoke again. "I'm fine. Are you? You don't look too good."

"No, I don't feel so great." He shook his head. "I feel like I was short-circuited."

"What, are you some sort of cyborg?"

"Not as far as I know." He chuckled. "But that's what it feels like." He rose to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. He turned to look at her, having to look down, as she only reached his nose. "What were you doing here?"

She turned to walk away. "Investigating."

"You could have been killed."

She wheeled around, her eyes spitting fire at him. "So could you!" She walked back to him. "What were _you _doing here?" She jabbed her finger into his chest. "Stalking me too?"

"No. I was just here saving a woman who was being mugged down in Carlyle alley. Sorry if that isn't good enough for you."

She fell silent. _He could be lying_. She shook her head at him. "I want to go home now, so goodbye, Phantom."

"When did I agree to being called Phantom?"

"When I decided to call you that."

"Of course." He grinned lopsidedly at her.

She turned away from him and moved towards the elevator. She heard his voice from behind her, but didn't bother turning around.

"How did you get here?"

"I walked."

"It's one in the morning. You think it's a good idea to be walking alone now?"

"Are you offering to escort me?" She stopped for a moment.

"Maybe."

"Well I don't need an escort, thank you very much." She kept moving towards the elevator.

Suddenly she was swept up into his arms from behind as he launched into the air. She restrained a shriek and smacked him upside the head.

"What the _hell _are you doing?"

"Taking you home."

"When did I give you permission to manhandle me some more?"

"When you refused to let me escort you home. There are creeps out there this late at night, Sam,"

"And you don't count because…?"

"Harsh. I'm not that bad, am I?"

She didn't answer. "_Must_ you carry me like a baby?"

"No." He suddenly dropped his hands from her, and a tiny yelp escaped her throat. But he instantly grasped her right hand with his, and wrapped his left arm around her middle, so she was on her front, flying next to him. After her fear dissipated, as she realized that he was perfectly capable of holding her and not dropping her, she looked out in front of her.

She was flying. The thought made her throat catch. There was a wind streaming into her face as though she was in weightless water. She closed her eyes. She had always dreamed of flying, but things got in the way. Up here, there was nothing to get in her way, nothing to stop her.

She was flying. She turned her head to look at the man flying next to her. _Well, he's flying, and I'm being towed_. Still.

The city rolled out below them. The moon was high and glowing in the sky, the clouds just above them. She got the feeling he was taking a detour, because they were up in the air for a very long time - but she wasn't complaining.

When they reached her apartment block, her hair wildly escaping its braid, she suddenly felt heavy again. He landed smoothly on her roof, turning her as he twisted his body, so they ended up in the same pose they had been in when she had fallen off the bridge. They landed softly, his feet touching the ground a few seconds before hers.

"How do you know where I live?"

"Do you really want to know?"

She pursed her lips. "Half of me does, and half of me _really_ doesn't."

He grinned, lifting her hand and kissing it gently. "Goodbye, Sam."

"What are you, some sort of prince?" She said in her mind. But the words got stuck in her throat, and never made it out through her lips. She heard herself say something else instead. "Goodbye, Phantom."

He gave her a winning smile, then, same as on the bridge, he dissipated, like a mist.

Her thoughts shot all of a sudden to the pair of gloves that she had secreted in the top drawer of her dresser. The ones he had put on her hands on the bridge and left with her. _They must have some DNA on them_, she thought. _I'll take them to the office tomorrow and get them tested_.

And it was right then that she realized that she recognized the voice of her assailant that night. Her eyes flew wide open and she sped down the stairwell to her house, pushing open the door and running to her cell phone. The dial tone sounded forever, until she finally heard a gruff voice on the other end.

"What the _hell_?" Danny sounded very unhappy. "Sam? It's," there was a pause. " One thirty in the morning? What could _possibly_ be the matter?"

"Danny," Sam said patiently, though her heart was leaping in her chest. "I know who the thief is."

"What?"

"I know who stole the Rose Sapphire."

* * *

**ooo. Do you? ;)**

**review!**

**FunkyFish1991**


	7. Revelation

**A/N - i don't own DP.**

**final chapter. :p and, again, sorry for the update wait...:s i have no excuse**

* * *

**_Seven_: Revelation**

* * *

Sam burst into the office the next day, Danny close on her heels. She had run into him in the elevator, and he seemed just as excited about the dénouement of their mystery as she was. 

Though, of course, _she _was not showing it.

Danny leapt through the doorway behind her. "We know who the thief is!" he sang.

Every head in the room shot up at the much unexpected entry.

"Seriously?" Tony said, shocked.

"I beg your pardon?" Maria stammered, removing her glasses.

"Who is it?" Edward asked excitedly.

Marilyn just started choking on her coffee when she realized Danny's top two buttons were undone.

"Sam, why don't you tell them?" Danny said, looking extremely chuffed.

"It's Gerald Monk."

Sam's revelation was greeted with stunned silence.

Edward stood, and spoke first. "I never really thought…are you sure?" He asked quietly.

"It can't be!" Marilyn said, having recovered from her coughing fit. "He was at the party until after it was stolen! He came back to find it missing!"

"And whose word do we have on that?"

She fell silent as she realized that the only person confirming Monk's story was Monk himself, silently berating herself for being so stupid.

Maria shook her head, replacing her rimless glasses. "Why? Why on Earth would he steal it?"

"When we interviewed him, it became very clear that he craved adventure. He wanted to go on holiday – to ski, bungee jump. He's bored with his life. What better way to spice it up than to steal a priceless gem? He knew all the security codes. He probably shut them off before even rappelling from the roof."

Edward was nodding slowing. "Yes, and he would certainly have the money to buy the equipment used."

"_And_," Sam said, as an image suddenly popped into her mind. "At his apartment he had a centerpiece on the table – a large circular glass platter. I'm _certain_ it was the piece of glass missing from the window."

"Yeah!" Danny said, remembering the platter she was talking about. "The one with the apples on it!"

"But if he did do it," Maria said, always the voice of reason. "And it certainly looks as though he did – where's the gem?"

* * *

Tony and Danny knocked on the door of Monk's apartment floor. Sam, remembering the events of last night, had suggested the two men go in front. She felt a little degraded, but she could not help but remember the feel of his arm crushing into her throat. 

The door was opened by Monk himself. He started in surprise at the six person detective unit standing before him, looking dead serious.

"Gerald Monk, you are under arrest for the theft of the Rose Sapphire and the assault of a government officer." Tony recited him his rights as Danny quickly slipped on the handcuffs. Monk looked dazed, as if he was unsure of what was going on.

And suddenly he sprung alive, as though he was a slow motion video jerked into normal time.

"You can't arrest me! You government idiots!" He turned, fuming to Sam. "Miss Manson, please tell them that this is insane!"

"Insane? If this is insane, what were _you_ last night, as you told me in excruciating detail how I was going to die?" His pupils dilated. "While you dug your arm into my throat?" His mouth opened in fear. "While you _tasered_ _Phantom_?"

His face twisted from one of fear and disbelief to one of furor. He bared his teeth and snarled at her. "You bitch! You malicious little–"

"Now, now, Mr Monk," Danny said, sounding light, but with a deadly glint in his eye. "Be nice, or your sentence might include resisting arrest. A few more years, that'd be."

Monk flashed his searing glare onto Danny. "You can't arrest me without proof!"

"Okay, proof. Sam? Got anything?" Danny turned to her, smiling.

She bit her bottom lip.

"Sam? Where's the sapphire?" Marilyn sounded on the verge of desperation, glancing warily at the bound man before her.

Sam closed her eyes slowly, and her finger came up unconsciously to tap her lower lip. Suddenly her lilac eyes flashed open. She grinned at Gerry, whose eyes widened as he realized she had figured him out.

She turned and walked towards the fireplace. She knelt down and stared at the gaudy gems inlaid in the mantel. One pink one stood out from the others, flashing beautifully in the light. She put her fingers on either side of it and pressed. She depressed two secret buttons whose outlines were just visible up close. The gem popped out into her hand. She looked at the pink stone in wonder, then grinned cockily, tossing it into the air as she turned back to her teammates.

"Not the best hiding place, Gerry."

"Don't call me that!" he growled.

"Oh," she whined, throwing his own words back at him. "But you told me to."

He scowled murderously at her.

Later, after the police had arrived and taken a steaming Gerald Monk into custody, Sam handed a plastic bag to one of the scientists who had shown up to fingerprint the gem, just in case there was further incriminating evidence on it.

He took it with a puzzled expression, lifting out a plain white glove.

"Can you tell me whose they are?"

He nodded, still looking bemused, replacing the glove in the bag.

She watched him walk away with mixed feelings.

* * *

The team received a note from the upstairs offices commending them on their solving of the high profile case. The Mirage Museum and Gallery was so pleased to have the priceless gem retrieved in time for the exhibit they had had planned that they awarded each member of the team two hundred dollars in thanks. 

Sam sat in her chair while the rest of the team practically skipped around the room with drinks and cheers.

She was staring at her computer monitor. On it was a picture taken from the bridge that night when Phantom had saved her. They had almost landed; their feet not quite touching the ground, and she was staring up at him. Her back was mostly facing the camera, and Phantom was almost face on to it.

She stared into his eyes. They looked different in the photo. They radiated with an unearthly glow in real life. The green enveloped you, mesmerizing you.

She had to hold back her fingers from reaching up to trace her finger down the line of his face.

"Who are you?" she whispered almost silently to herself. It was not just a question as to his true identity.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. She jumped, immediately shutting the internet window and pretending to have been doing her mounds of paperwork – as, of course, she should have been. She heard speaking, then the door shutting. Marilyn appeared beside her, with a manila envelope.

She beamed down at her partner. "This is for you. From forensics," she added as she handed Sam the envelope.

Sam accepted it silently, staring at it. Her finger reached up and ran along the edge of the seal.

"Who are you?" she repeated, as she pulled the seal open.

* * *

**oopsie. a story that ends in a cliffie :) it's fun being evil.**

**review please!!!**

**FunkyFish1991**


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